Intelligence is Bliss
by Vlad Taltos
Summary: A Courier with an interesting background sets out to try and remember it. Jack knows the King? What's this key for? And what's the big deal about women? Original and not a copy/past, so maybe you will be enticed to read it. Caution: Gay pairing, no slash.
1. Prologue: In The Beginning

So... yet another story on my to-do list. I came up with a really interesting Courier background story, and I like a certain Follower (hidden double pun, see if you can guess it), so I put the two together and found myself writing a story. Yay!

In the description I said I'm not following the main quest. Let me clarify: the leads the Courier follows for main quest are going to go cold and a lot is going to happen that might include side quests, and variations thereof, then a lead might be picked up. So the main quest _might _happen, a long time from now. Or it might not.

Also, when I looked a certain character up on the Fallout Wiki I found that he actually does not exist, and that made me rather upset as he is essential to my Courier's background. Because it is never said or even hinted at in-game, only in Bethesda interviews, I'm going to throw out the fact that he does not exist and make him up. :P Take that, big meanie programmer people (mumbles about how they always ruin my dreams...).

Prologue: In The Beginning...

In the beginning, a drunk passed out in an old abandoned radio studio after an unrestrained night of sex, drugs, booze and crappy fifties music. The world was going to hell (again anyway) so he figured why not enjoy himself while it did. Thankfully, though it did set everything in motion, the majority of this story does not take place in the beginning, but two decades and several unintended consequences after.

Jack was starting to get worried. He knew the I-15 like the back of his hand, being a courier and all, so being a mile out from Goodsprings and still with not even a radroach in sight his suspicions were reaching a level close to paranoia. This was supposed to be the most dangerous road this side of the Colorado, and that isn't even mentioning the fresh rumors of Deathclaws roaming near Quarry Junction, so where the hell were the dangers? Something was up and he was starting to get spooked. Remembering a mock catchphrase he had heard a strange old man say once, "You're not paranoid if they're actually after you," he wondered if he should turn back.

Then he heard something move behind him. The shuffle of footsteps was barely perceptible, but he caught it and turned, raising his rifle to his shoulder as he did. Halfway around, just as he was able to make out the shape of a person with a long barreled gun, he heard the shot, unmistakably a shotgun. He felt pain in his thigh through the thick leather armor he was wearing, then another shot of pain through his shoulder. Knowing he wasn't going to be able to shoot he wildly swung the barrel of his brush gun at the attacker before a final shot hit his chest. He felt his grip loosen on the gun as it missed the target and flew through the air into the night, and he fell to the ground unconscious.

._._._._._._._._._._.

Jack woke in a daze of soreness. He felt his eyelids open and the view didn't change, which was a bit distressing, but after a few seconds shapes and colors started to form out of the dark void. He was on his knees, his hands were tied and in front of him was a man in a checkered suit flanked by two tribal-looking warriors. They looked like Great Khans, but he wasn't sure. To his left another tribal was digging a grave and next to the hole was a worn hunting shotgun with several large bean bags lying around it, probably what he had been shot with as he wasn't bleeding profusely. Suddenly he caught some of the conversation that had only moments before been incomprehensible, garbled noise.

"Will you get it over with?"

Another voice spoke, and Jack looked forward again to see it was the man in the checkered suit talking. "Maybe Khans kill people without lookin' them in the face, but I 'aint a fink. Dig?" The man turned his attention to Jack and pulled something out of his shirt, showing it to him. "You've made your last delivery, kid. Sorry you got twisted up in this scene." He put the item, a fancy poker chip that Jack was supposed to be delivering, back into his shirt and in the same movement pulled out a silver coated 9mm pistol. "From where you're kneeling must seem like an eighteen karat run of bad luck." The man raised the gun and aimed it at Jack's head. "Truth is, the game was rigged from the start." As a last ditch effort, when the man's finger tightened around the trigger Jack jerked his head to the right. There was a burst of fire and everything went black.


	2. 1: Memories, and Lack Thereof

AN/ Okay, so the Courier is shot right outside Goodsprings and he (or she) travels a lot, so how is it that no one knows who he is? He must have passed through Goodsprings at least once, if not more than that (as is the case in this story). So, I'm adding a bit more to Jack's background story. I love it when characters develop on their own.

Chapter One: Memories, and Lack Thereof

Jack woke up to a distorted view of a ceiling fan. The spinning made him dizzy so he tightly shut his eyes again.

"Your awake. How 'bout that."

A flash of recollections shot through his mind. A man in a checkered suit... Himself opening his eyes to someone saying, "Guess who's waking up over here?" Wait, he hadn't noticed someone say that at the time. He had been all foggy then, barely hearing what the Khans were saying, let alone understanding it. With a slight delay, he realized something like that might be happening again. He opened his eyes, forcing through the headache it caused, and pushed himself into a sitting position, reaching around to his back out of instinct for a rifle that wasn't there.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy there. Easy, Ja.. um, junior," A soothing voice said from his left. "You've been out cold a couple of days now." The effort to sit dashed any thought of jumping up and fighting whoever he thought was about to kill him. That and no matter how hard he tried the muscles in his eyelids forced themselves shut when he saw the light in the middle of the room. The soft voice continued, making it a bit easier for him to resist the deep urge to jump up and fight. "Why don't you just relax a second, get your bearings." When he felt the room stop spinning he opened his eyes again and turned to see an old bald man with a white mustache sitting next to him. "Okay, let's see what the damage is. How 'bout your name? Can you tell me your name?"

"What? Yeah, um..." He stopped for a second, struggling with his memory before saying, "Uh, crap, I don't remember.. wait, uh, Jack! My name is Jack." He was lost for a second wondering how something as simple as his name was hard for him to remember, and what could have happened if he hadn't been able to remember it. What would he have done, made up a random name to go by until he remembered?

"Well, your not to far gone Jack, at least you got your name right. That's good. You had me worried there for a second, I thought you might have forgotten some stuff. The bullet hit the side of your head pretty good there but I guess it didn't hurt your brain none. There were a few bit of lead I had to go in after and that's what had me worried the most."

"Wait, wait a minute, what? How do you know I got my name right?"

The aged doctor smiled and started to say something but saw the genuine look on Jacks face. "Oh, dear, you don't remember? It's me, Doc Mitchell."

"No, I don't remember you."

"Are you sure? You've crashed on that bed there a bunch of times while passing through. I've patched ya up at least a dozen times when you ran into trouble on the road." Jack's face remained puzzled and without a hint of understanding, so Doc said, "Oh, damn it. This isn't as good as I hoped. Well, no sense of keeping you in bed anymore, your body is healed up well enough, let's see if we can get you on your feet."

With the assistance of Doc, Jack stood up and got his balance. It made the receding headache come back full force and his vision went very blurry, but once he was up and his heart was pumping a bit harder it quelled significantly. The doctor put him through about twenty minutes worth of tests, both physical and mental, and although they were annoying and the sad yet hopeful glances he shot at Jack were even more so, afterwards he felt better. His side and chest were a bit bruised and his head still hurt, but the soreness of lying in a bed for days on end was gone.

"Alright, well, I've done all I can do for ya," Doc Mitchell finally said after seemingly ridiculous series of questions. "I guess you can go. You were stripped of your armor before you got here and the clothes you wore under that were coated in dirt, so you can have a new set of clothes. Here are some stimpacks in case your head starts acting up, and the rest of what was on you when you came in." While he talked the Doc was collecting things from around the house and placing them on a table for him. By the time he was done the clothes, the stims, a small and mostly empty sack of caps, a key on a rough cord necklace, a rifle, a pistol and a box of ammo had appeared on the table. "Victor brought your rifle in a little while after you, but all the ammo is gone so I guess you can have this old pistol and some rounds if you want. If you get hurt you can come right on back, for what you've done for Goodsprings and what you've gone through you get free treatments whenever you need."

Greatful for the generosity but still wanting to get out of the unnerving house, Jack put on the dusty clothes. He grabbed the rifle, which he immediately recognized through whatever was holding his mind back, the 9mm with its small box of ammo from the Doc, and with a mumbled thanks went on his way. When he was outside he set the holster for the 9mm, which felt off for some reason like it was too light, slung the brush gun over his shoulder by the strap and headed towards the saloon. He wasn't sure how he knew his way around, but he did know that it was where he usually stopped. Looking behind him, he saw the familiar house that he had been to plenty of times before. It jarred his memory a little, and a few recollections of walking over the threshold and being happy to see the Doc passed through his mind, but thats all, just a few vague memories. It frustrated Jack. Now, after running out of the place as fast as he could, he remembered the Doc was a friend and a good man.

At the saloon he received a warm welcome from two women, Trudy and Sunny, and a dog named Cheyenne. He tried a little harder this time not to offend them as they were probably his friends. Trudy offered him a glass of wine, apparently his favorite, on the house and they sat down at the bar. When he told them he didn't really remember much of anything they were shocked and started filling him in on stuff he had done. He noticed three already empty beer bottles by where Sunny had been sitting and therefore wasn't sure exactly how much of what she said was actually true. According to them he traveled a lot and stopped in when he was nearby. He had once rallied the town against a gang and then taken out three of the five members on his own. He had save one of the other residents from being eaten by geckos as well.

"Wow, there is a lot I'm missing." He thought for a moment and took a sip from his glass. "Wait, do I have, uh, a girlfriend or... Oh crap, do I have a wife and kids to get back to?" He looked expectantly at Trudy but Sunny burst out laughing before she could say anything. Trudy had difficulty stifling a smile as well, and finally he said, "What? What's so funny?"

"You? Wife and kids? Ha!," Sunny stopped for a second to laugh some more. "Not unless you found 'true love' in the month since you were last here. You were, lets say, withdrawn when it came to women. You turned down a roll in the hay with me and some other single ladies, and from the rumors a few married ones, around here because you kept saying you didn't want a 'one night stand.' You were 'waiting for the one' you always said, and you somehow spotted the ones who tried it just for a chance at your caps. Now, don't get me wrong, if any man deserves it it's you, but true love isn't a realistic goal in the wasteland. I've been picking on you for it for years now."

There was a moment of silence before Trudy said, "Wow, your laying it on a bit thick, there, aren't you Sunny?"

"Maybe, but this might be the only chance I have to talk some sense into him. Most men would have taken me up on the quickie, and he didn't, so there was obviously something wrong with him."

Seeing it was obviously the alcohol talking, Jack didn't comment on the last remark. Taking the opportunity to talk, Jack said, "Well, I can understand my previous reasonings, so I think I'll stick with them. Anyway, moving on, do you two know anything about the men that shot me? I really want to pay them a visit."

Trudy said, "Well I don't know for certain their the one's who shot you, but three men came through here just after you left going the opposite way. One had a checkered suit on and the other two were Great Khans, does that sound like them?"

"Yeah, that's them. Did they say where they were going?"

"No, but it sounded like they came from Quarry junction. They left town going south."

"Okay, thanks. Also, I need some ammo for my rifle, where can I get some?"

Trudy looked at him funny, the shook her head as if to shake away a fly and said, "Jack, you really seam just like your old self. For a second I forgot your memory was gone. See Chet next door for the ammo, and here," she reached behind the counter and pulled out three bottles of water, "take these with you, and your first drink is free the next time you come around, and you had better come back from this, you here me?" The motherly bartender sounded stern, but her expression spoke only worry.

"I will, Trudy," he said. He got up to leave and was almost at the door when he turned and said, "So, I get it that I don't have anyone to get home too, but where do I live?"

"Well, you never really said and we all assumed you didn't have any one place to live. You once told me that Goodsprings felt like home to you, but really you lived on the road."

"Alright. Again, thank you."


	3. 2: Bargaining

Chapter Two: Bargaining

Jack checked the time. He had woken up around noon and a couple of hours had passed since, so he figured he should get going soon. He went over to the store next to the saloon and talked to Chet.

"Hey, Jack. How are you doing? I heard you were shot in the head, guess it takes more than that to keep you down."

"Yeah, Chet, I heard the same thing. Doc patched me up and I'm back on my feet, but I seam to have lost a few marbles that he can't put back. At least the ones that had memory in them."

At first Chet smiled at the joke, but then his eyebrows furrowed and he said, "Wait, what? Are you pulling my leg?"

"No, not really. I remember walking through that door behind me before and now that I'm here I remember that this is the place to buy stuff, but looking at you I have no idea who you are. Trudy told me your name but other than that, I'm drawing a blank."

"Ah, um, wow." Chet was dumbfounded for a second, then said, "You know if you didn't have such a reputation as an honest person I'd think this was a joke, but judging by that big-ass bandage over your ear your probably telling the truth. Well, I'm sorry for your head there, but unless there is something I can do to jog you memory your probably here to turn in some loot. What do you have for me this time?"

The ensuing battle of prices and promises was one that should have been written in epic poems for future generations. Chet was a tightwad and Jack had no money, but using his reputation, a few owed favors and the promise of a large discount on the next trip's loot Jack was able to acquire what he needed. There where only about two dozen rounds of .45-70 Gov't, so he also got a cheap varmint rifle with a few score bullets, a satchel to carry things in and he finished it off with a very bad condition set of leather armor. In short, Jack walked in dirt poor and walked out with enough to get by on.

He went back to the saloon to change, and when he was done he asked Trudy, "So what did Sunny mean by 'girls want my caps?' Also, I just talked to Chet and he expected a hefty profit of loot when I walked in the door, why?" Sunny wasn't at the bar, a drunk in the corner said something about her chasing geckos.

"Well, your job as a courier gets you paid enough to get by on. On top of that when you run into trouble on the road you loot everything valuable from the people that messed with you and that means you have more than average when it comes to caps. That is what she meant by, 'girls want your caps,' though like she said, before that, you youth, looks and reputation around here "

"Oh, well I didn't know I had it made." Trudy shot him a look and he corrected himself. "Money-wise, that is. Not, um, with girls or anything."

She nodded and then continued, "Yeah, that is if you survive. Usually you walk out of here with top shelf armor, packing a hundred or so bullets and with a head screwed on straight. You be careful out there until you get back into the swing of things."

Figuring it was time to get going, he bid goodbye and started south. He passed Sunny cooking half a gecko over a campfire and waved, heading down the rutted and decaying road toward a town in the distance.

._._._._._._._._._._._._.

Primm held few answers. The director at the Mojave outpost, a man who named Johnson, gave him details about the delivery, the most important being it was supposed to be delivered to The Strip's North Gate. Unfortunately, the old man could not help with a direction on the Checkered Suit Man. Being inquisitive, Jack also asked about a strange broken robot that was in the building and the director, knowing he was good with electronics, said it was a botched delivery with no papers to go on, so he could have it if he could fix it. An hour later he started heading out with a creepy looking floating robot with the designated code ED-E in tow.

Jack was going to follow the lead towards The Strip when the newly installed sheriff of Primm conversely told him the men were seen going farther south, possibly through Mojave Outpost and into NCR territory. This led to a violent trip down the I-15, in which two separate Viper Gang groups that passing merchants warned him of were ambushed from cover and easily taken out. One of the leaders was wearing a trashed set of reinforced leather armor, so he cannibalized his own to repair it. He made it to the well-monitored Outpost just to find that the trail went cold; no one had seen the conspicuous men. He stocked himself with .45-70 Gov't ammo, a good portion of it hollow point and the rest he disassembled and reloaded by hand for maximum anti-armor capabilities, by trading the varmint rifle and it's ammo along with weapons and ammo from the Viper Gangers.

Travel from then on was easy. His armor wasn't very good, but it was light and had enough chunks of bulletproof parts sewn into it that it got the job done. He kept a few grenades on hand because he found they scared away any animals that he didn't feel like wasting ammo on. The humans were a bit more stubborn, and their items were cashed in at towns along the way for caps. Now Jack knew what Chet had first been talking about, he made a good hundred caps every week or so, and then spent about half to refill his water bottles and buy medicine before moving on. The profits were quite good.

A few weeks later on his way to The Strip Jack found himself helping a group of NCR farmers. Their fresh water supply was being irradiated somehow and they were willing to pay a large sum of caps to anyone who could solve their problem. Though he wanted to get to find the man that had shot him, as time went on he knew his chances of catching him were quickly dwindling, and since the pay was very good he decided to try his hand at it. The farmers suggested looking in a nearby pump station. There he found a terminal that told him that pipes running close to a nearby Vault were being irradiated, so he went back and said he could fix the problem if he had a radiation suit to keep him safe. One of the NCR soldiers had a connection in the science department at Camp MaCarran, which he re-learned was the main base for the NCR in the area, and the next day an Advanced Radiation Suit was delivered by a squad with other supplies like medicine and farm tools. He traded for a a dozen anti-radiation chems and, now fully equipped, went to search the Vault.

The exterior was inhabited by geckos, as well as a portion of caves, but the Vault itself, was bathed in low-level radiation and had several feral ghouls wandering aimlessly. Though they seamed to lack any human sense of pain, they were still no match for the powerful rifle and the extra damage done by the bullets that exploded on impact. The suit's clear plastic visor impaired his aim slightly, but he didn't have a problem because ED-E's laser took care of any ghouls he missed. He had felt safer ever since the robot joined him simply because it's sensors could detect anything that was trying to sneak up on him.

After breaking into several locked doors he eventually got to the Overseer's office. From there he was able to get a floor plan and find the reactor, as well as unlock a door to the armory that he thought would be worth raiding. When he got to a terminal that allowed him to shut down the reactor that was radiating the area, he found a two hundred year old help message say that some residents were stuck in the reactor room and to let them out. He knew that there was no way in hell they could still be alive and for a second wondered how horrible it would be to be in that situation, but pushed it out of his mind and shut off the reactor.

Then he went to the armory and found it was still stocked with weapons, armor and ammo; the prospector's dream come true. He slung several high-end weapons, such as a few assault and marksman carbines and a sniper rifle, from the shelves over his shoulder, leaving the heavier things like the minigun and the missile launcher (why would they need a missile launcher underground?). There were several suits of lightweight security armor that looked like a slimmed Vault version of police riot armor. They were made of a material on par with the few combat armors he had seen, so he took as many of them as he could, almost overburdening ED-E. There was a box with the mother of all locks on it at the back, but he could not spend the time picking it while standing in radiation so he tilted the box until it was standing on it's narrow side. He heard it's contents slide to the bottom, so he quickly grabbed a riot shotgun from a nearby shelf, loaded it from a nearby ammo cache and then fired it into the empty end of the box. Using this method he was able to extract a small, strange looking energy weapon from the mangled box. Noticing he was starting to feel a bit queasy from the radiation he injected the needle end of a rad away into his arm and let it drip into his blood as he went back to the surface.

He returned the Radiation Suit and refused the reward, informing the farmers that the loot from the Vault would more than pay for his services. The Vault armor was perfect; strong and hard as steel, but lighter than combat armor. After removing the cloth Vault suits from the inside, he stripped his normal leather armor of the shoulder and chest reinforcements and sowed them onto the arms and legs, then slipped the vest of armor over the whole thing before putting it on.

Heading north to Vegas, he stopped by a store that he vaguely remembered as the place where he had bought his rifle from and unloaded his expensive loot for a total of four thousand caps. Taking his newfound wealth into the gate of Freeside, he entered New Vegas.


	4. 3: Information Costs

AN/ Just wanted people to know that somewhere in this chapter is the 100,000th word that I have put on this site. Yay me!

For those of you who have read the chapters before this, I went and changed something. :( Sorry, but you'll easily spot what it was so it is okay. Or you could go back and read it all again... and review on each chapter as you finish it...

Hey, I can dream, can't I?

Chapter Three: Information Costs

Pushing the unlocked metal gates open, Jack stepped into Freeside. A group of people were loitering to his right all looked to him, which was slightly unnerving and caused him to stop. A few seconds passed before one of them said, "So, are you going to hire one of us or not?"

"Um..." he said with a raised eyebrow, "What exactly does that mean?" Some of the group looked like hired guns, but the rest were wearing a strange attire that looked pre-war, and he wasn't quite sure what was being offered.

One of the first man's fellows, this one in the white pre-war outfit, hit him on the shoulder and gave him a look that said, "What is wrong with you?" then turned to Jack and, out loud now, said, "Forgive him, he's not the brightest bulb in Vegas. This here is Freeside, and she's dangerous as a Deathclaw. With one of us around she'll be as tame as a dead Deathclaw. Man, because of what you done for the Kings, no charge. What do you say?"

Wondering what exactly it was that he had done for the Kings, he said, "No thanks. I think I can handle myself fine, but thanks for the warning anyway. Which way is The Strip's North Gate?"

The man gave him a puzzled look, but then pointed and said, "At the end of the road turn right then head that way."

Reaching for the 9mm at his waist, not wanting to use the expensive ammo for his rifle on what would probably be soft targets, Jack proceeded with a bit more caution than he thought should be needed in a town, and sure enough he didn't get down the street before three sickly humans rushed out of a building to his left. They wore no armor and were wielding only rusty pipes so they were barely a threat. Farther down a man yelled, "Hey, need a fix?" from across the street, but quieted when he was ignored. As he went, following the bodyguard's directions, a large brick wall loomed up to Jack's right.

Coming to an intersection, he could see a sign that said "Welcome to The Strip," far down the street to his left. He started for it when a woman leaning against a building nearby said, "Hey, you. With the robot."

He stopped and said, "Yes?" His 9mm was still in his hand, so he wasn't worried.

"Do you have any injuries that need healing?"

He smiled and replied, "I have an injury, but there isn't anything anyone can do for it."

The woman was puzzled at the cryptic reply and said, "Okay, want to bet? This is Vegas after all." Jack looked at her incredulously, but didn't decline, so she continued, "I'll give you 100 caps," she pulled out a cloth sac that jingled slightly. "If you go to get checked out and the Followers can't help you, you keep them. If they can, two-hundred caps for me. Oh, and ask for Julie, the leader."

Knowing he had already made it to where he was going, Jack decided to take the bet. On one side of the building with big brick walls there were two large wooden doors that stood slightly ajar with a well armed cowboy-looking ghoul sitting behind a pile of sandbags just inside. He walked in and as he passed by the ghoul she (he could only tell from the voice) said, "Be good while you're here or I'll shoot you."

"Kay, message received." Quickly moving past the intimidating ghoul, Jack looked around. The wall that he thought was a building was actually four thick brick walls with guard towers that formed a very defensible fort. There was no roof, and the courtyard that the walls made contained several tents erected around a flagpole. The most common apparel around seemed to be a white lab coat, so Jack assumed they were doctors or scientists of some type. Suddenly a flashback hit him. He was in this same place, but it was at night and he was hurt. A knife in his gut. Bullet in his shoulder. A bodyguard had a secret, and had turned on him when he found out what it was. And finally a person, a... soldier? Someone in a tan uniform/armor running away. Jack snapped out of it and approached the nearest doctor. "Hey, can I speak with someone in charge?"

"Sure," he said, and led him to a woman with a dark mohawk who wore the same type of dress as all the others. She gave a quick glance at ED-E and, although she didn't really show it, Jack could tell she was very glad to see it. He wondered why, but didn't ask. It might be beneficial for him to play stupid.

"Hello, I'm Julie Farkas, Follower of the Apocalypse. How can I help?"

Forgoing the bet he had made for info, he said, "My name is Jack. I'm not really here for anything, but I've received a head injury recently and lost some of my memory. When I walked in I recalled this place, so do you know if I've been here before?"

The woman took a second before answering. "Yes, I believe I've seen you here before. It was something to do with the Kings, and you getting hurt on the job, right?"

"Uh, I don't know. I remember a corrupt bodyguard and getting shot then stabbed."

"Yes, I remember. You were the one the King sent to get dirt on Orris. Orris didn't take to kindly to getting found out, as I recall."

"Okay, well thanks for the help. It looks like I need to talk to this, um, King, I guess."

He started to walk away when Julie said, "Hey, wait!" He turned back to her and she continued, "Since I just helped you out, can I ask a favor?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"How much is that eyebot worth to you?" She glanced at ED-E over his shoulder.

Jack followed her gaze to the spherical, spiky metal thing that was hovering behind him and said, "I don't think I'm willing to part with ED-E. He's saved my live a few times, he can watch my back out in the lonely Wastes and he's carrying all of my stuff. I can't go without him."

"Hm, alright, how much is a few hours away from it, uh... him, worth to you?"

_This is starting to get interesting_, Jack thought to himself. _Why could she want him for only a little while?_ It ruled out the possibility that she wanted ED-E for a task, unless the job could be done quickly. The only thing he could think of was to see how the eyebot, as she called it, and any especially unique parts of him were constructed to make more, but for some reason he didn't think that was the right answer. In short, his interest was perked.

"It would be worth quite a bit to me, but why do you want him?"

A pause, then, "You don't need to know that. It is important to me, enough so that I'm willing to spend some caps. That is all the information I am offering on the subject, do you accept of decline?" When she spoke it was with an incredible poker face, and at that Jack knew there was something going on. He wanted to know what it was. _Time to play hardball, _he thought, forming a plan. _This is going to be fun._

"Well, as I'm currently trying to find the man that did this," he pushed back from his forehead a lock of his shaggy hair to expose the large scar and stitch marks that ran from his left temple to his ear, "And I have reason to believe he is in this city, details are what it's going to take to get me to delay for hours on end."

Julie's eyebrows shot up at the sight of such a wound and, now distracted, she said, "Wow, that is the head injury you mentioned earlier? You should probably let one of us look at that, there could have been lasting effects..."

Seeing an opening, he attacked (verbally, that is). Raising his voice slowly and steadily, starting with a forced indifference and ending at a not-quite shout that was just under the decibel level needed to 'make a scene,' he began. "Yeah, I know what the _lasting effects_ are. The _lasting affects_ are that I can't remember my last name, if I have one." He pulled out the key on its cord necklace that he had gotten from Doc Mitchell, one of the few things he had from his forgotten life, and held it up, "The _lasting effects _are that I can't remember what this goes to, even though it's important enough to me that I wear it around my neck. Luckily, the _lasting effects, _though they might have caused an anger problem, didn't fuck up my ability to think straight because if they had then I wouldn't know that you're trying to get information from a one-of-a-kind-robot without even telling _me, _it's rightful owner, what that information is." Jack could tell he had the Doctor on the run, so he lowered his voice and said, "Now, I offer an unlimited amount of time with ED-E, on the condition that I get to see whatever it is that you find. Do you accept of decline?"

The veteran doctor was shaken, not as much by Jack's tone but by his tone coupled with the logic he provided for his argument and the force he put behind it, and it was enough to leave her speechless for a moment. The she hurriedly said, "Yes, fine, I accept." She looked around and said, "Here, follow me. I need to set things up." She started for a tent at the back, one in which a blond and bespectacled man quickly withdrew his head and pretended he hadn't been observing the display. Julie closed the tent flap after ED-E was in and then started talking to a scientist at a terminal.

Seeing he wasn't needed at the moment, Jack turned to the blond man that had been watching his performance and cheerily said, "So, Nosy, what do you think? How did I do?"

The scientist looked up through his glasses and condescendingly said, "What are you talking about?"

He let out a chuckle before saying, "Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. I was just asking about the show I put on, you know? It was pretty good, right? You think she believed it?"

From his peripheral vision he saw Julie's head snap up from her conversation to look at him, but he pretended he didn't notice. The blond man's superior attitude was gone now, replaced by a a genuine sense of confusion. "Wait, what? Really, what do you mean?"

"Oh, well I mean I was curious about what exactly she wanted to do with ED-E, so I made up a bunch of stuff to throw her off guard. I wouldn't actually get mad over her expressing concern for my health and welfare." There was movement in the corner of his eye as some one approached, so he put on an urgent tone. "But there's no need to let her know any of this of course. If she did she might try and talk me out of a deal we already agreed on. That would just force me to run word-circles around her again until she reaccepted." The man looked between his superior and Jack with a slack jaw, slightly awed by what was happening. Then there was a crunch of dirt under a boot as the Head Follower turned back to what she was doing.


	5. 4: Playtime At The Arcade

AN/ As you have probably discovered already, I like shortening and improvising the game's lines in my stories. However, I kept a lot of Arcade's lines or reused them in new situations simply because they were so good.

Again, I changed some things in the last chapters. If you see something that doesn't make sense, assume it is a reference to something you haven't read (or read the other chapters again).

Chapter Four: Playtime At The Arcade

"Um, wow," the glasses-wearing man leaned in and said, low enough that it wouldn't be overheard even in the small tent. "That was one hell of a sight. Julie can calm an angry mob and resolve the worst dispute, that is one reason why she's the Head Follower around here, and you toyed with her like it was nothing." He gave a wide-eyed huff of disbelief, then chuckled at something once before continuing, "You stage an elaborate show to find out what some random scientists are up to and you call _me _nosy?" They both laughed at that, then the man went on, "You know, she's not one to hold a grudge, but you might not want to ask her for favors anytime soon. You might find your next med-x a tad bit powerful. Like, maybe powerful enough to knock you smart ass on the ground for a few hours, and your ego along with it." Although he said it seriously, there was a smile on the man's face.

"Eh, I'll apologize. My ego isn't that inflated, I just felt like showing off for a second." His fast brain caught the snare in his logic there, not that he could change what he said. Who was he showing off for? Julie, partially, but the situation wasn't being helped by it so that couldn't be a reason, as a matter of fact he had a motive for the opposite. The only other person in the situation...

Was looking quizzically at him now, not asking out loud the question that was on his face. Jack quickly diverted his eyes, looking around for a change of topic. The two lab coats were still going at it, apparently fully engrossed in talking about something to do with ED-E. Not drawing on anything he said, "So, what's your name?"

"I'm Arcade. I think I heard you say your name was Jack, am I correct?"

With the rush from his verbal victory long gone, Jack was starting to feel something. Why was he nervous all of a sudden? "Yep, that's me. So, um, what do you do here?"

"I'm a researcher here, after all not all Followers are people persons. I look through native plants and try to use them for healing purposes. Things like purified cactus water, and stimpacks from Xandar roots. But, well, nihil novi sub sole."

"What does that mean?" Jack asked, noticing how incredibly intelligent the person in front of him was.

"It's Latin. 'There is nothing new under the sun.' If there was anything miraculous about Agave oil and Mesquite powder, the natives would have discovered it a few thousand years ago." He paused then. "So how much of what you said was true? Are you really looking for the man that did that," he said, motioning to the scar on his forehead.

"Oh, all of it was true. I find it easiest to produce an on-the-spot commotion when you don't make things up unless you have to, so that it is easier to keep the details all in line. I just made some molehills look like mountains." Changing the subject, Jack said, "My turn. So how is it in the Followers? You have any fun around here?"

"We're playing a game?" He asked confusedly. Jack shrugged and he continued, "Um, anyway, I haven't actually done anything in a week or so because I'm out of things to try. It really is very boring here. Then again, so am I, you'd get better stories out of a Freeside junkie."

"I find that hard to believe."

"No, really. Have you ever snorted a ground up Cazadar venom sac? Neither have I, but I can guarantee a Freeside junkie _has_."

Jack laughed at the comment. "That was pretty good. Do you always deflect personal questions?"

He smiled and said, "Only to obfuscate my past association with a fascist paramilitary organization. I'm kidding, of course. I will deflect personal questions at every opportunity." More chuckling, then, "Really, though, I'm very boring. Maybe you're wondering, 'why hasn't some fine man come and swept thing dashing bachelor off his feet?' It's because I'm boring." This was presented in such an ordinary way, and with so much wit around it, that Jack almost missed the gender swap.

Just then Julie and the other scientist broke up their discussion and came over. With a bit of false enthusiasm Jack asked, "Hey, we get to join the show now? Cool, I thought you were going to stall over there until I died to get out of the deal." The empty stare he received held firm until he rolled his eyes and said, "Okay, I'm sorry for deceiving you, I was curious and just wanted to find out what you were doing." The glare softened but he went on before she could speak, "Well, that and I couldn't pass up the challenge that your skillful dissembling presented."

At his side, he heard Arcade whisper, "You know, overt flirting will get you... uh, everywhere."

Jumping on the first witty sounding thing that came to mind, Jack leaned in and quietly replied, "Yeah, I know, hot stuff, but right now I'm trying to apologize to this nice lady here, can we do this later?"

This resulted in a mixed glance, both amused and speculative, from Arcade. Jack didn't notice because he ended their aside and turned back to Julie, who said, "Um, did I miss something?"

"Yeah, we were just swapping breakup stories. Guys can be such assholes."

Looking from the bespectacled scientist to Jack, "I didn't know you were gay too Jack," she said with a surprised tone. Her anger at him was completely gone, so it wasn't a biting comment.

He was about to reply with, "I'm not," when he stopped and thought about it. "I'm... oh. I guess I don't remember if I am or not," he said slowly and pensively, completely oblivious to the awkward moment he had created. Coming out of his reverie, he said, "Anyway, that's something I can figure out later. What was it you wanted?"

"About ED-E, he is connected to this terminal and we will begin draining information off of him soon. When we do start it will take a few hours before the transfer is complete, and we can't look at the data until then so if you want you can go."

Jack looked confused for a second, then said, "Wait, that kind of information? Like, data? I thought you meant schematics of him or material samples, I didn't know ED-E had anything actually stored on him." He chuckled once and continued, "See? I'm learning stuff already."

The scientist took over fussing about the robot like a mother with a sick child for Julie and she said, "It's been sending a signal on a wavelength that can only be received by enclave-base radio technology. It was also set to play audio when keywords are said, I'll turn that back on if you want." She typed at the computer for a second then said, "For example, 'Poseidon'"

The eyebot then started a voice recording about how he was an experimental prototype made of extra-hard armor. There was also a note about stored information on the 'duraframe' material ED-E was made of and on Poseidon Energy. Then a new voice said something about upgrades, and that any Enclave should help ED-E reach Navarro outpost, it's intended destination.

When it was over Julie said, "We've known all this since Ed-E was reactivated, from the transmissions he started sending. It took us some time to find a way to accurately track his position, and once we did we found he was traveling towards us. About two hours ago we found that he was close to Freeside so I sent two Followers out and told them when they saw an eyebot around, to nudge it and whoever was traveling with it toward me, using caps if necessary."

"That explains a few things. Okay, I'm going to go see this 'King,' guy. Maybe he'll be able to help me out with a few things. Can I get the stuff that ED-E has stored in him while he's hooked up to all that?" Julie didn't answer with words, but pointed to a corner where three suits of the Vault 34 armor were lying. "Oh, thanks." He awkwardly picked up the armor, their combined weight being quite substantial, and started out the tent. As he passed Arcade he said, "See you later," with a smile, but the man stopped him.

"Hey, um, my work is pretty much finished. I can't find anything else that might be useful medically, so, since I'm free, do you want so help with that?"

"Sure. Here," he said, handing two of the apparels over. "It might be easier if you put one on, then you only need to carry the other."

After waiting for arcade to put the dark gray armor on over his white undershirt, then his lab coat back on over the bulletproof layer, the two left the tent. In the courtyard, Jack immediately spotted the person that had given him the 100 caps. He went over and returned them, along with the winnings from the 'bet.' When she tried to protest, he told her that what he had leared here was worth much more, and that her taking the money would make him feel better.

Then they passed through the gates and out into Freeside. Jack took out his 9mm with his free hand, and Arcade responded by pulling a large energy pistol and looking around. "What is it?"

He looked back, seeing the scientist on the alert, and said, "Oh, nothing. I just like having a weapon out if their is a chance I'll be attacked."

They walked the short distance to The King's School of Impersonation unmolested and were nodded through the entrance by a King that was standing guard. Neither of them had any idea what they were about to find out.


	6. 5: Secrets

Chapter Five: Secrets

AN/ A lot of background is hinted at here. I'm teasing you :)

Jack and Arcade stepped over the threshold of the King's Headquarters, into a room filled with people dressed in leather and white. A few looked around at the new arrivals and greeted from their seats. Jack smiled and nodded, then asked the nearest if he could see the King. The gang member jumped to his feet and gladly led them into a theater room where a man in a tan blazer with black pants and shirt was sitting watching a performance. He was easily the most well dressed person in the room, so Jack assumed it was the King. Sure enough, the Kings member led them to the well dressed man and said, "Sir, Jack Vegas is here to see you."

"Hey! Jack! It's good ta see ya, man, that is some nice armor. You probably made it yourself, didn't you, you crafty snake. How're you doing? Are you here to collect?" The King turned in his chair to greet him. Unobtrusively the King's member that had said his name slipped away.

The King held out his hand and Jack accepted. The handshake was firm and quick, and then he smiled and said, "Hello, Mr. King. I suppose I'm not doing rather well, that's actually what I'd like to talk to you about, and I'm not sure what I should be collecting, but before any of that can I ask what that man just called me?"

Almost inaudibly the charismatic man rhetorically asked, "Mr. King?" With a strange look on his face he said, "Jack, what are you talkin' about, 'what did he call you?' You're Jack Vegas." He paused for a second as if waiting for a response, then started again in what sounded like a jingle. "You're Jack Vegas, the Jack of Spades, the Jack of Hearts, the Jack of All Trades! That's your catch phrase, you came up with it!" That didn't sound right. Not the jingle, that sounded pretty good, but "Jack Vegas" stuck in his mind stronger than a cheesy catch phrase.

"So it's a nickname? Just an epithet?" This earned a worried look from the King, and he looked like he was starting to get annoyed. His curiosity was forestalling filling in the man about what had happened.

"Why are you acting like this Jack? We're The King and The Jack, two cards that rule the deck. We sat at this table one night and you came up with a hundred of these, remember?"

"Ah, wow, sorry. I'm stupid. I meant to have started with this, but I got sidetracked." Here he pushed the lock of hair away from his left ear and said, "I was shot in the head a few weeks ago. I don't remember much of anything that happened before then."

For a second it looked like The King wasn't going to believe him, but the scar was hard proof. "If you weren't such an honest man and if we weren't such good friends I'd tell you to wipe that makeup off and get out before I really did shoot you dead for trying to fool me. But I know you, and memory or no memory you wouldn't do something like that." He paused and thought for a second, then said, "So is that why you're here? Someone shot you? I swear to you, Jack, I'll have him killed faster than you can blink. Just give me a name, man, and it's done."

"No, no I'll take care of the killing. He shot me, you think I'm going to let him get away with that? No, I heard that I knew you before I lost my memory and I just want to know some things about... uh, myself, I guess. I only remember bits and pieces." He stopped then and looked around, letting his mind nudge something into the focus. It was like squinting at a person approaching through fog. "For some reason this place reminds me of long hours spent building a suitcase, but that doesn't make sense at all."

The King gave him a serious look, then a nod and said, "Jack, I'm not sure you want to know about that. You wanted it secret very badly, now that you lost your memory it is secret. I don't even know, though I can point you in the right direction if you want. You should let it stay secret, though, man. It was big, and it was dangerous. Let it stay buried."

Jack pondered these words. Once again, his interest was perked, but this time it was something he himself had purposefully hidden. He must have wanted it hidden, so it was probably best to leave it that way.

"Okay, King, I'll let that be. So, back to business, what exactly was that about 'Jack Vegas?' And is there anything I should know about, uh, myself? Family? Lovers? Do I have a wife and kids worrying about me right now?"

"Ha! You? I don't think you've even popped your cherry yet, kept going on about how you hadn't met the 'right one.' Just about everyone teases you about it. Family, though..." he paused and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, "That might be another something to let be, Jack. You've got one relative, and I know who it is, but you didn't like this person."

He was starting to get frustrated now. How complicated had his old life been, with so many things that are better off forgotten? "Okay, so what about the name?"

"That leads directly to the relative. It's not a moniker, Vegas is your last name, man. Well, I mean it was made as a nickname, but then it was passed to you as a surname. So I'm not sure that counts as a last name."

Forcibly pushing his questions out of is mind, Jack stood and said, "I guess I'm better off not knowing. If the curiosity starts eating at me, I'll be back, but for now I'm just going to focus on killing someone. I'm off. Thank you, King." They shook hands again and The King wished him good luck.

He was almost out the door when he thought of something. The King controlled Freeside, and had people posted at every entrance and exit. The man he was looking for was pretty ostentatious in his suit, so it was possible that someone had mentioned his passing. He decided it was worth a try, turning back to The King.

"Oh, wait. Before I go, though it's a long shot, has anyone said anything about a man in a fancy black and white checkered suit passing through Freeside?"

For the first time The King looked dumbfounded. "Yeah, actually. Benny, from the Tops casino, he passed through about a week ago. He always wears his suit, or so they say. But, Jack, is that who you're looking for? You don't want to go messing with him."

A jolt passed through him as he heard the name 'Benny.' That was what one of the Great Khans had called the Checkered Suit man, when Jack had been tied up at their feet. Feeling a rush, like he was closer than he had been before, he said, "I am the luckiest son of a bitch there ever was. Again, thank you. I have to go."

He started to leave when The King yelled after him, "Don't do it Jack! Your gonna get killed!"


	7. 6: Daring Plans

Chapter Six: Daring Plans

Arcade was a little unnerved when Jack's eyes suddenly lit up with determination. It didn't help that he ignored The King's advice of, "You're going to get yourself killed Jack. Don't do it!" He followed him out the door, carrying the extra armor slung over his back.

"So, uh, Jack? What are we doing now?"

"I'm going to kill Benny. He runs the Tops Casino, what do you know about him.?"

"Nothing, really. He doesn't usually come to Freeside so I've never seen him. Rumors are that he's pretty vicious."

He stopped, having been walking fairly fast before, and took a breath. "Well, I'm going to need a plan to do this. That means rushing is not getting me anywhere. What can we do?"

Throwing ideas around, Arcade said, "Let's just go back and see if Julie has anything off of ED-E yet."

"It's been less than an hour, there is no way they're done. I guess we should drop this stuff off. I'm not sure why I decided to bring it in the first place," he said. They headed back to the Old Mormon Fort and stopped just long enough to set the armor, Jack's pack and all the larger weapons next to ED-E. Like expected Julie said there was nothing new yet. Jack abruptly said, "I haven't eaten anything since before I got into town. How is the food here?"

"Barely edible, and there isn't much" Arcade admitted. "We only get so much and we try to spread it equally around Freeside, but that means there is less for the scientists here. We keep enough so we don't starve, but none of it is very good."

"Okay, want to go out to eat? I'll buy."

Arcade was surprised at such brazenness from the man who had answered with, "I don't remember," when asked about his preferences. Not exactly sure what to do he said, "Um, sure. The Atomic Wrangler is the place where you have the least chance of accidentally eating something that will grow inside you and then chew its way out of your stomach, but that is the best praise I can give for it though. There aren't any real restaurants in Freeside."

"Are there any on the Strip? Does the Tops have one?"

"Uh, yes, but the Tops probably isn't the best place for you to be right now. Anyway, you either need a shitload of money or a passport. Given the circumstances, the King probably won't give you a passport. Anything to keep you away from the Tops will be a good thing in his eyes."

"Okay, shitload of money it is." Jack got up, heading out of the Fort towards the elaborate and heavily guarded Strip Gate. A securitron stopped them, but after Jack flashed a large sack of caps they were allowed through.

Arcade ignored the flashing lights, neon signs and 'greeters' that lined the road, keeping an eye on Jack as he made a beeline for the second casino on the right. Cautiously he put his hand on Jack's shoulder and said, "Look, if you're going to shoot up the place, tell me so I can get out of here."

"I'm not going to shoot up the place, I'm going to grab a bite to eat and be observant while I do. There is a chance that a gunfight will break out, but I'm not going to start it. Your help would be appreciated, but if your uncomfortable with risks you might want to leave."

Arcade paused, then said, "Alright, I'll follow. Just, stay under control."

Jack snorted in derision, then said, "Sure, as long as you can play along without blowing my cover."

They entered the casino and were greeted by a man in a suit who asked for their weapons in a heavy 50's accent. He unholstered his Plasma Defender and surrendered it, but he noticed Jack's 9mm seemed to have disappeared. Things became a little more tense, especially when the greeter said, "Hey, one more thing. If you happen to 'stumble across' any weapons while here, just don't wear them openly, dig? We don't want to be scaring the other customers," before letting them pass.

Nervous that the man was on to them, Arcade tried to move on quickly. Jack stayed, however, and put on a slight accent similar to the man's to ask, "This joint has a restaurant, right? Could ya help a guy out and point me in the right direction?"

"Yeah, just over there," he said, pointing to the end of a gambling hall lined with roulette and blackjack tables. "Up the stairs and straight ahead. Just so happens to be the only worthwhile entertainment on the whole Strip as well. A show should be startin' soon, ya lucky dog."

They started away, but then Jack turned back and said, excitedly, "Hey, we're not from around here, but The Tops is a pretty well known, do you think we'll get to see Benny? I mean, like, _the _Benny? He's made such a name for this place, will we actually _see _him?"

Arcade tried not to react, but that was so insanely transparent that it made him very uneasy. Was Jack trying to get caught? The man didn't show any sign of suspicion, however, and said, "Maybe. He usually makes his rounds soon, so you might." His voice turned a little more serious, which caused it to lose a bit of the accent, "But don't try an' talk to him. He ain't a fink to be swooned over, Dig? If you see him, consider yourself lucky for that."

Jack's voice became somber, but in keeping the charade he held the fake accent better then even the greeter. "Yes, sir. I'll keep that in mind. Thank You."

Then set out down the spacious hall, past the many tables and slot machines.

AN/ Don't forget to review!

It's right here :)

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